


When I Think Of Love

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek Winter Holidays Series [29]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Crushes, Heavy Angst, M/M, Oblivious Spock, Pining, Pining Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Poetry, Pre-Relationship, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22233745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: Pining for Spock has McCoy writing poetry that he considers to be drivel.  But it comes from his aching heart."When I think of love (and I do),I think of you."
Relationships: Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Series: Star Trek Winter Holidays Series [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/670427
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	When I Think Of Love

**Author's Note:**

> McCoy was wrong in calling his poem blank verse. Its structure does not comply with the definition for blank verse. Rather, it is free verse.

"I never thought of you when I thought of love.  
How could I when you seemed exactly the opposite of it.  
Oh, sure, we were friends. Even good friends.  
But lovers?! No! Never!  
Or so I thought.  
And now I can think of you as nothing less."

"When I think of love (and I do),  
I think of you."

McCoy stared at the words he had written.  
He’d never thought of himself as a poet.  
And now he could think of himself as nothing else.

What was it that this was called?  
This, what he had penned with so many emotions churning inside him?  
Oh, yeah. Blank verse.  
So fitting! Only a blankety-blank could write drivel like this!

He prepared to throw the poem away.

And yet the words had come from his heart.  
His swollen, tender heart.  
He could not throw away his words any easier  
Than he could throw away his heart.

So he kept the paper as well as his heart.  
Full well knowing how foolish he was in saving the one;  
Full well knowing how silly he was in hurting the other.

The emotions had him feeling as silly as a school girl.  
A school girl ho has been so thoroughly smitten  
By Love's tender first stirrings  
That she could walk into sides of buildings without seeing them.  
How foolish of her! How silly of him!  
To be acting so naïve and inexperienced!  
At least the school girl had a good reason. He didn't.  
She was an innocent in her youth. He was far from being either.  
How could he plead innocence and unworldliness in the face of Love's tribulations  
When the whole universe knew he was anything but those things?!

And yet here he was, as starry-eyed  
As that silly teenager with her first crush.  
Thank goodness he hadn't walked into sides of buildings yet.  
(For the simple reason that buildings are extremely rare on Starships.  
That was probably all that was saving him from doing that bit of silliness.)  
And 'crush' was a good thing to call what he was feeling,  
Because that's how heavily emotion bore down on him,  
Making it impossible (it seemed) to draw breath.

Logically he knew it wasn't possible.  
Feelings were not physical things.  
They really could not crush the life out of him.  
But his heart felt as thoroughly shredded  
As if he'd been ejected into space  
Without wearing a spacesuit.  
And so would the rest of him. Be shredded.  
And he'd have more to worry about than unrequited love.  
On second thought, he wouldn't have anything to worry about anymore.  
It'd mean that he'd be dead and that his old nemesis had won after all.

Damned space!  
He'd always known it'd be the death of him.  
He'd never figured, though,  
That Death would come disguised as Love  
Or as a cold-hearted Vulcan who was blind to McCoy's plight.  
A Vulcan who would mourn him as a lost coworker  
And sometime friend  
And sparring partner,  
And nothing more.

But until then it would be his secret,  
McCoy decided as he set aside the paper.  
Then on impulse he glanced at the closing lines again,  
Because they summed up his life, his philosophy, and his impossible love.

"When I think of love (and I do),  
I think of you."

Then he stuffed the paper away in the back corner of a drawer,  
And strided out with purpose to resume his life again.  
And the crumpled paper lay forgotten in the darkness,  
As all unrealistic dreams eventually must do.

But for a moment it had lived  
And had given concrete proof,  
And hope,  
That the thought of love had once been possible,  
Irregardless of however improbable it was  
In the logical world of an unresponsive Vulcan.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, my friends!
> 
> "When I think of love (and I do),  
> I think of you."
> 
> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines. I claim, though, the love that radiates from their hearts as they strive to be the best they can be with their imperfect selves. May we always profit from their examples of how to live our lives.


End file.
